


spring is here, the sky is blue

by somehowunbroken



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Woke Up Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: Tyson wakes up in Vegas. In bed with Nate. With a wedding ring on his finger.It could be worse. Like, a lot worse.
Relationships: Tyson Barrie/Nathan MacKinnon
Comments: 12
Kudos: 146
Collections: Hockey Holidays 2019





	spring is here, the sky is blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [overturnedgoal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/overturnedgoal/gifts).



> christaaaaaaaaaa i hope you like this!!! happy holihockey! :D :D
> 
> thanks to g for the beta on this.
> 
> title is from "[chapel of love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTq7w8P6_2I)" by the dixie cups!

Tyson's memory comes back to him in bits and pieces as his mind slowly wanders towards being awake. The playoff loss; nope, moving on, he's not thinking about that yet. EJ's ridiculous birthday idea for Sam; they'd boarded a plane to Vegas, and it had made Sam smile, which makes the hangover Tyson can feel worth it. The party; the loud bass in the club, Sam throwing back shot after shot, Nate pressed up all along his side. Someone laughing, someone else saying _no, it's a terrible idea,_ Tyson being really, really sure about whatever his clearly brilliant plan had been, something with Elvis in a chapel—

Tyson's mind freezes, rewinds, plays the memory again. There's an Elvis, there are flashing lights, he's stumbling up the aisle while laughing his ass off, and Tyson knows who has to be next to him before he remembers turning to look.

He forces his eyes open, and sure enough, Nate is _still_ right next to him.

"Okay," Tyson whispers. Nate's asleep, and he'll stay that way until he's forced to get up; Hangover Nate is not the best Nate there is, so Tyson's going to let him sleep it off while he figures out exactly why he and Nate had walked down the aisle together in a Vegas wedding chapel, because there's no way they'd actually—

Tyson buries his face in his hands, and he's not even surprised when he feels the metal of what has to be a wedding band brush against his cheek.

What the _fuck_.

"Okay," he says again, dropping his hands to the sheets and resolutely not looking down at them. He doesn't need to know what the wedding ring looks like; it's there, he's not gonna take it off because he knows he'll lose it, and he can deal with it… later. First thing's first, though: he needs to shower, like, six hours ago, because when he turns his head, his nose wrinkles as the beer sweat smell hits him.

A shower he can do; a shower sounds better and better the longer he thinks about it, actually, so he throws the blankets back and gets out of the bed, resolutely not turning to look back at Nate as he does so. He walks his way to the bathroom and shuts the door, and then he yanks his clothes off and drops them in a pile on the floor before turning the shower on and catching sight of the ring.

"Aw," he whines, because that whole _not looking at it_ thing had been great for the five whole minutes it had lasted, and he really would've preferred if it kept going. He's seen it now, though, so he pulls his hand closer to his face and studies it. It's plain, some sort of silvery metal that fits him perfectly, and it's probably not the kind of ring Tyson would've picked out for himself, but it's absolutely one Nate would like.

Nate, who probably has one just like this on his left hand.

Tyson drops his hand to his side and steps into the shower. This he can do without thinking about anything at all, which is good, because he really needs a solid fifteen minutes of not thinking about anything at all. He uses the hotel toiletries; he woke up in the room he and Nate had booked, which is good, but he hadn't really had time to do more than toss his bags into the room yesterday before they'd headed for the bars, and obviously he hadn't been in any frame of mind to unpack his stuff once they'd gotten back. The hotel stuff smells fine, which is good, because Tyson uses kind of all of it in his quest to get rid of the way he smells. He's altogether a lot more relaxed by the time he turns the water off, thankfully, because that's the exact moment that Nate flings the door open, walking in with both eyebrows raised.

"So, um," Nate says as Tyson pulls a towel from the rack and starts drying off. "Did I have a weird beer dream, or…"

Tyson glances up at him, then gestures. "Do you normally wake up with a ring on your finger?"

Nate squints at him, then raises his hand to look at it. Sure enough, there's a ring that matches Tyson's around the fourth finger of his left hand. "Huh."

"Huh," Tyson agrees, standing straight and wrapping the towel around his chest. "So we got married last night."

"Sure looks like it," Nate agrees, still looking at his ring. "Do we match, or did you get something super fancy and I just put my foot down because I have taste?"

"Excuse you," Tyson says, mock-offended as he steps out of the shower and shoves at Nate's shoulder. "I have plenty of taste, and you choose to dress like a lumberjack if nobody supervises your wardrobe."

Nate grabs Tyson's hand as he goes to pull away, and Tyson goes still as Nate looks at his ring. A quiet smile appears on his face. "We match."

"You must've talked me into it," Tyson grumbles, but it's put on and they both know it. "No way would I have picked out something so boring."

Nate laughs. "I mean, it's not like we planned ahead," he says lightly. "Maybe this was all we could find."

"That's very possible," Tyson says, tugging his hand back and squeezing past Nate to head into the bedroom. "You should shower, and then we should see if—"

"Tys," Nate says. He must've followed Tyson out of the bathroom, because when Tyson whirls around, Nate's right there. He's got his _you're cute and I'm charmed_ face on, which is a face he swears he doesn't have, but Tyson's been dating him for long enough to know that he absolutely does.

"Nate," Tyson says, staying where he is and letting Nate take a step closer.

Nate laughs softly and leans down, and Tyson tilts his head back, and the first kiss he's going to remember having as a married man is one where he's in his towel and Nate has kind of rancid morning beer breath, but honestly? He kind of likes it anyway.

-0-

"So," Nate says after he gets out of the shower. Tyson had decided that room service breakfast was the best possible option, so they're both eating pancakes off of plates balanced in their laps.

"So," Tyson says. "So we got married."

"We did," Nate says.

"Which was for sure not part of the plan when we got on the plane yesterday," Tyson says, cutting off another piece of pancake and stuffing it into his mouth. It's Nate's turn to talk, and Tyson's gonna make him take it, even if it means stuffing his face full of pancakes. Not that that's actually a hardship.

"It wasn't," Nate says. "But, like. It's not like we've never talked about it."

Tyson nods; he's kind of regretting not cutting his pancake bite a little smaller, because now he's got something to say but half a mouthful of pancake to chew before he can do it, and these pancakes are kind of dry. He perseveres, though, and takes a gulp of apple juice before he says anything. "We have," he agrees. "And we said we weren't gonna decide anything until we knew if I was gonna get—"

"Well, we decided," Nate cuts in. He gets all scowly when Tyson talks about the possibility of getting traded, as if they don't both know that his name is out there, and not just on Twitter. It's not that Tyson doesn't get it—he doesn't want to leave Nate or the Avs any more than Nate or most of the team want to see him go—but he has to deal with it by dealing with it, and Nate has to deal with it by _not_ dealing with it. It's been kind of a pain point in their relationship, honestly, but they've been handling it, just like they've been handling all the shit that they've faced down since Tyson, fumbling, asked Nate if he wanted to _get fancy dinner with me tonight_ instead of using the word _date_ , and Nate had laughed and laughed and then kissed Tyson's cheek before accepting. That had been Nate's rookie year, and they've both said and done way more embarrassing shit since then, and they're still here.

They're _more_ here, wherever here is, because they've both got rings, and between the two of them they can piece together most of the ceremony, and when Tyson goes to put his empty pancake plate on the dresser, he narrowly avoids setting it down on their marriage certificate.

"Hey," Tyson says, scooting the plate a little farther away and picking the certificate up. There are signatures scrawled onto it, and it's not like Tyson can actually read any of his teammates' chicken scratch handwriting, but he's seen them all autograph enough stuff for fans over the years to know exactly who they'd picked as their witnesses. "I know who we should talk to next."

"Thank you for not saying you know who we should call, because then I would've had to make a Ghostbusters joke, and I just don't think that's appropriate right now," Nate says, standing and walking over to Tyson.

"Is making the reference without making the joke better or worse?" Tyson asks, turning the paper so Nate can see.

"I mean, I think _we're_ for better or for worse," Nate says, studying the paper. He rolls his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Why would you be?" Tyson asks, setting it back on the table. "The only surprising thing is that they didn't put their numbers by their names on drunk autopilot. Come on. I stole their spare key yesterday."

Nate snickers, but he grabs Tyson's wrist before he walks away. "Hey. I love you."

Tyson can feel his whole face do something soft and fond, and for once, he doesn't try to fight it off. "Love you too."

"But I'm still not hyphenating our last names," Nate adds, pulling Tyson in to kiss the protest off of his lips.

Tyson will never admit how well it works, but then again, Nate already knows.

-0-

"Wake up, assholes," Tyson yells as he throws the hotel door open.

"Wha," JT slurs, rolling over and promptly falling out of the bed.

Nate snickers and shuts the door. "Nice hickeys."

"Why," Kerf says, yanking JT's pillow over his face. "No. Go away."

"Nope," Tyson says, sitting on the edge of the bed as JT slowly levers himself up and back onto the bed. He grabs for the covers and whines when Kerf doesn't give them up, and Tyson has to bite back a laugh. "How much do you remember about last night?"

"Uh," JT says, flopping down to the bed beside Kerf when he realises Kerf is going to be a cocoon until he's damn well ready to come out of it. "We went drinking? Apparently you're the reason we couldn't find the key in my pants last night."

"And why did two of you need to look for the key?" Nate asks sweetly, as if every single person on the team hasn't caught the two of them making out against the outside of hotel room doors across the continent since they got their shit together earlier in the season.

"Do you want the answer to that?" JT shoots back, colour high on his cheeks. "Why did you steal my key?"

"Past, way drunker me knew I'd need it," Tyson says, tapping the key card against JT's ankle bone. "That's it? Nothing past the drinking?"

JT frowns. "There was… I don't know. We went for a walk?"

The pillow-and-blanket mound makes a noise, and Kerf lifts the top pillow off of his face. "Oh, holy fuck."

Nate points. "He remembers."

"We walked to a _wedding chapel,_ " Kerf says. "There was an Elvis, and a lot of glitter—"

"Did we get _married_?" JT asks, voice high and fast as he whips his head around to face Kerf. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut, covering his eyes with his hand.

Tyson sort of wants to let them twist in the wind for a little while, but more than that, he doesn't want JT to stress puke everywhere. "No," he says firmly. "But you two knuckleheads were the witnesses when Nate and I got married."

"When," Kerf echoes. He blinks at them, then groans and drops the pillow back onto his face.

Tyson pokes at him through the blankets. "No, wake up, we have more to talk about."

"No we don't," Kerf says, voice muffled through the pillow. "Go away. Go all the way away."

"Uh," JT says. His eyes are still screwed shut, but he's managed to lower his hand. "Congratulations?"

"Thanks," Nate says. "Get up, get showered, get dressed, you guys. We seriously need to see what you remember."

The pillow rises again, and Kerf glares out at them. "Go ask Willy," he says. "Willy was there."

Tyson turns to Nate. "If Willy was there, why didn't we ask him to sign the paperwork? He's, like, a real adult."

"He lost rock, paper, scissors," Kerf says. "Go talk to him about it." And with that, he drops the pillow on top of himself again and promptly kicks Tyson off the edge of the bed.

"What the fuck," Tyson says, mostly surprised that Kerf has enough strength to kick him off the bed but not enough to face them without a pillow over his head. Then again, Tyson reasons as Nate yanks him up, it could just be Kerf. He's kind of a weird dude sometimes.

"Okay," Nate says. "Do you know where Willy's room is?"

"No, but I bet EJ knows," Tyson says. "EJ knows everything."

"Because EJ's a nosy fucker," Nate mutters.

"Guys, please," JT says. Tyson glances up; it looks like he's rescued his pillow from Kerf, and they're both glaring kind of pathetically. "Look, we'll talk later, okay? But we both need, like, three more hours of sleep."

"Fine, okay," Tyson says, and then he turns to Nate and yanks him down into a messy, exaggerated kiss, breaking off with a laugh when it draws twin groans from the bed.

Nate's smiling at him, though, a real, full-wattage smile, so Tyson kisses him again.

-0-

As it turns out, Willy's room is three doors away from Tyson and Nate's room, which they find out because Willy walks out of the vending machine room as they're walking past it. He beams at them both. "Good morning!"

"Willy," Nate says. "We, uh."

Willy laughs. "You sure did."

Tyson snorts. "The wonder twins told us that you were there, too," he says. "Honestly, we only sort of remember what went on, so we're hoping you can help with some details."

"I took video," Willy says, gesturing down the hallway, and they all walk together. "I have most of it, and then Mikko has the rest, because my phone battery died."

"Mikko was there, too?" Tyson asks, frowning.

Willy laughs as he opens his hotel room door. "You guys invited the whole team," he says, amused, as he leads them inside. "Half of them were egging you on and half of them were trying to talk you out of it, but they all went. Nobody was gonna miss you two getting married."

Tyson feels his face heat. "Oh," he mumbles, dropping down to the bed that Willy hadn't used, given the precision of the way the bed is made. Willy makes his bed after he gets out of it every morning, but he's not as good at it as the professionals are.

"Oh," Nate echoes, sitting next to Tyson and taking his hand.

Willy hums as he fiddles with his phone, and then he sits on his bed. "The video is sending," he says. "You guys seem… kind of calm about this."

Tyson laughs. "What, you thought we'd be freaking out?"

WIlly shrugs. "I mean," he says. "If I woke up married to a teammate, I think I'd freak out, at least a little."

"You're not dating any of our teammates," Nate points out. "Unless there's something you want to tell us."

"You and Grubi were getting pretty close there at the end of the season," Tyson adds, leaning forward with a grin on his face.

Willy laughs. "Nothing to report," he promises. "I'm glad you're not upset."

"Why would we be upset?" Tyson asks, frowning and turning to Nate. "Are you upset? I'm not upset."

"I'm not upset," Nate promises, squeezing his hand.

"It's not what you planned," WIlly points out reasonably. "We all knew that you wanted to wait. That's why some of the guys were trying to talk you out of it."

"Gabe," Tyson remembers, a clear memory of Gabe's frowning face popping into his head from last night, walking down a street lit too brightly for comfort.

"Gabe," Willy agrees. "EJ and Sam both had a hand over his face when it got to the objections part."

"He was gonna object?" Nate asks, frowning.

"I don't think so," Willy says, shrugging. "He definitely licked EJ's hand, though, and then Sammy wouldn't let him let go, so Gabe kept licking him."

"Only at our wedding," Tyson says, amused. "Man, we got someone to lick someone else and we didn't even have to invite Marchand."

"Ew," Nate says, wrinkling his nose. "Not at the licking, at the inviting Marchand. He's not allowed at our wedding."

"He wasn't there," Willy confirms. "So you don't have to worry about it."

"Good," Nate mutters. "So everybody was there? Really?"

Willy nods. "We even FaceTimed a few guys in," he says. "Josty cried. I think that's on JT's phone, when he rejoins the land of the living."

"Yeah, don't expect that to be any time soon," Tyson says, rolling his eyes. "We'll definitely ask later."

"Good," Willy says, smile returning. "So you guys are happy?"

"I mean, I'd rather remember it more clearly," Tyson says, "but I'm happy."

"Very happy," Nate confirms. "Like, I would've married him last summer, expect he wanted to wait."

"Oh, look, we waited," Tyson says brightly.

Nate rolls his eyes. "Yeah, this is definitely what I had in mind when you said _later_."

"I figured we'd go for, like, the swan-themed chapel, at least," Tyson says, frowning. "Elvis is a little…"

Willy snorts. "You let Sammy pick," he says dryly. "Since it was his birthday. Nate, you said you felt bad about taking over his special day."

"Wait, shit," Nate says, eyes widening. "We got married on his birthday. That was so shitty of us."

"It was quarter after midnight," Willy says. "Tyson, you made poor Elvis wait. You had to pay extra for that."

Tyson shrugs. "At least we didn't steal Sammy's birthday."

"I don't think that's how birthdays work," Willy says, clearly amused.

"You don't know that," Tyson says. "Maybe it is."

Willy laughs. "Okay. It's your wedding day, technically, so I guess you can have that one. Don't get used to it."

"I won't," Tyson promises cheerily. "So everyone was there, we had the reception beforehand because we were all crazy drunk when it happened, and now Nate and I are married. Does that cover it?"

Willy laughs. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Cool," Tyson says, standing up and dragging Nate up with him. "In that case, Nate and I have some, uh. Husbandly business to attend to."

"Go, leave, out," Willy says immediately, shooing them towards the door. "None of that in here. Save scarring the rookies for the actual rookies."

"Don't worry, we already kissed in front of a super hungover JT and Kerfy," Nate says as Tyson pulls him out of the room, and Willy laughs so loudly that Tyson can still hear him as the door shuts behind them.

"So," Nate says as they walk the few doors down the hallway to their room. "Husbandly business?"

Tyson grins and bumps their hips together. "I mean, we have this nice hotel room where we don't have to wash the sheets, and we've done a lot of stuff, but we've never had married sex before."

Nate laughs. "I'm pretty sure it's not gonna change."

"But you don't know for sure," Tyson points out as he slides his keycard into the door. The light flashes on and he swings the door open, then stops. "Uh."

Nate starts laughing, and Tyson struggles not to join him but gives up pretty quickly. He's betting it was Gabe, honestly, who managed to take the hour they were out of their room to cover every surface with either a candle or rose petals and hang tacky _JUST MARRIED_ bunting on the walls.

Tyson walks in, trying to ignore how strongly everything smells like flowers, and glances around. "Hey, there's champagne, at least," he says, noticing the bottle in an ice bucket in the corner.

Nate comes up behind him as he's examining the label, as if he can A) read French or B) knows anything about champagne even if he could. Nate's hands slide to his hips, and Tyson leans back into him, half autopilot and half getting with the program.

"How about," Nate says, nose brushing against the sensitive spot on Tyson's neck, "we leave the champagne for later? We can celebrate figuring out if married sex is different from all the other sex we've had."

Tyson plunks the champagne bottle back into the bucket and turns, looping his arms over Nate's shoulders. "You know what?"

"What?" Nate asks.

"You have great ideas," Tyson says, leaning up to kiss him.

And, well, Tyson thinks as Nate backs him towards the ridiculous rose-strewn bed. Tyson married Nate last night, so his ideas have been pretty great lately, too.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they lived! happily! ever! after!!!!!


End file.
